I Already Have
by Meesh
Summary: The day before the Inquisition leaves for Adamant Fortress, Vanawyn bolsters up the courage to finally talk with Cullen about their feelings for one another. (One shot F!Lavellan x Cullen fluff!)


Barely a whisper of sound followed Vanawyn as she slowly walked along the battlement, mind moving at the speed of light. She had no idea what she was doing as she stared at Cullen's office door, but here she was. Right before she turned to leave, chickening out again, the praise she herself gave Dorian yesterday rang through her mind.

_It's not easy to abandon tradition and walk your own path._

A deep breath later, Vanawyn quietly opened the door and walked through. The late afternoon sun's rays shone through the windows, illuminating Cullen and the circle of officers around him. The slight delay this meeting offered gave her a small bit of comfort, tense muscles in her shoulders relaxing. Instead of interrupting, she moved to stand near the bookcase and waited.

"Finally, Rylen, you're in charge of ensuring the mages and trebuchets hit different targets."

"…Aye, Commander." Cullen's second-in-command sounded confused.

"Concerns?"

"Yes, sir. Wouldn't it make more sense to make sure they hit the same targets?"

A hand raised to run through blonde hair as Cullen sighed. "If our intelligence is right — and it consistently has been — Adamant has a _lot _of battlements and we'll want to eliminate not only those on them but the battlements themselves as well, forcing the remaining soldiers to fight on the ground."

"My thought was we'd be sure to really knock holes out of the wall if we concentrated firepower."

"That would be a solid plan if this were a normal fortress. Adamant was built before modern siege equipment, so the trebuchets should be able to do more than enough damage on their own."

Rylen nodded and took a step back. "Aye, sir."

"That wraps up the assignments. Does anyone else have any questions?"

A few awkward moments of shuffling and head shakes later, the group of soldiers and officers filtered out of the office door across the room. Vanawyn leaned against the bookcase, quietly watching Cullen organize the papers on his desk for a few moments. He seemed so distracted, brow creased. Was he having another headache?

Suddenly he glanced in her direction, eyes widening with surprise when their gazes met. He stood straight, taking a half step toward her. "Inqu— Vanawyn! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

She smiled quietly, pushing to stand straight again. "It's quite alright." She paused, nearly losing her nerve once again. Before she could change her mind, Vanawyn forced out the question. "Are you busy?"

"Not anymore; those were the last of the assignments." The bottom edges of the documents in his hands rapped against the desk, aligning into a perfect stack, and then were laid atop the nearest pile of paper.

"Fair enough. Can I…" _Creators, how do I say this?_ "Do you have a minute?"

He didn't look her way, but his response immediate: polite. Not formal. Warm. "Of course."

"Okay. I thought we could talk." She took a step forward, hands nervously reaching behind her back, locking together in an attempt to keep from shaking. "Alone."

"…Alone?" Cullen blinked and then briefly looked toward her face, probably gauging her expression. Whatever he must have seen didn't worry him, given his nod a moment later. "I…mean, of course."

_Shit. Now where do we go? I…where would no one go?_ She began to rack her brain for a spot, but Cullen apparently already had a place in mind, heading over to the door on the other side of the room and opening it for her.

Vanawyn nodded and followed, walking out into the cold summer air. In front of them lay the half-finished mage tower, work on it abandoned to help prepare for Adamant. A perfect place for them to talk.

The Inquisitor and her Commander walked along the stone, and she decided to keep the conversation light. "How are the soldiers? It's going to be a long march to Adamant."

Pride shone through in his voice, as it usually did when they spoke of the army the Inquisition had raised; it was becoming formidable compared to surrounding nations. "It is, but they're prepared. Thankfully the sappers will meet us there — that will keep us from having to divert course."

"Josephine is a heroine for finding those." _Understatement of the year,_ Vanawyn thought with a small smile as she took the steps one at a time. "I don't know if we'd be able to take that fortress without them, built before modern siege equipment or not."

Cullen's voice echoed off the stone in the small staircase. "It's still going to be quite the fight, but you're right: the trebuchets should be enough to turn the tide in our favor."

Rich golden beams of light half-blinded them for a heartbeat when the two emerged at the top of the tower, hands immediately reaching to shield from the glare. Silence settled around the both of them as they marveled in the warmth of the sun for a few long heartbeats.

Eventually Cullen stepped away, turning to face west. "So, have you slept? Since returning, I mean. You did arrive rather late yesterday evening. Every time I turn around, you're… Well, I'm not _tracking _you or anything; Maker, it…sounds like that, doesn't it? Every time I see you, you're working with someone on something. I just wonder if you've…remembered to sleep."

His voice had changed tone again, sending flutters up her spine. It was the same voice he used when they were chatting during chess: not a hint of professionalism, just plain Cullen. The awkward halting between words was something that had begun for the both of them shortly after he caught her helping the healers in Haven, and it was bizarrely comforting. Maybe it was just knowing that he was as unsure as her, Vanawyn didn't know; either way, it brought back the warm feeling in her stomach.

A quiet chuckle bubbled past her lips. Concern over her welfare would be sweet from any of her friends, but from Cullen it both meant something more and rang a little hollow. He was the picture of self-neglect: eyes dark from lack of sleep, chin stubbly from lack of care, face chapped from the cold breeze of the mountains.

"I could ask the same of you, you know. Do you _ever _sleep?"

Whatever he was expecting in response, Cullen was not expecting what she said. He laughed before biting his lip and looking out across the mountains. "Yes, I do. It's just… You…"

"What?" Vanawyn tried to catch his eye by tilting her head, but he avoided her gaze. Was that too personal a question? He wouldn't ask her something he couldn't be asked in return, would he?

"It's…" He cleared his throat, looking back to her; the look in his eyes was so nervous that she felt the need to look away as well, eyes focusing on her feet. "There's something you wanted to discuss?"

She forced herself to walk a few steps ahead, gaze resting on the horizon. Maybe not looking at him would keep her quickly rebelling stomach in check.

"Cullen, I…"

_Can't stop thinking about you? Have wanted to kiss you for weeks? Get butterflies whenever you're around? Wonder if you feel the same way? Can't believe I'm even considering throwing everything away?_

"I care for you, and I…"

Vanawyn slowly breathed in, a cloud of white exhaling in a sigh.

_I don't know what to do._

Armor scraped as he turned to face her, voice surprisingly gentle. "What's wrong?"

"You left the templars, and I know that not all humans are…"

She trailed off and bit her lip; that wasn't the right way to go about this conversation. He was just as aware of their differences as she was.

"Could you ever think of me…as…"

Words failed her; as what? As more than a friend? A lover? Just a fling? Someone to be serious about? Vanawyn couldn't help but look back up, catching his eye. Did he know what she was _trying _to say? This had never been so difficult in the past.

"I could — I mean, I do." Cullen stumbled over his words, boots shuffling along the unfinished floor as he moved closer to her. Her heart skipped a distinct beat when his voice lowered with proximity. "…Think of you. And what I might say in this sort of situation."

When a gust of frigid air chapped her lips, Vanawyn instinctually darted her tongue out to wet them, but her chest tightened as she noticed his breath catch a split second later. She swallowed the lump in her throat and whispered. "What…stopped you?"

"You're the Inquisitor." Guilt flooded his eyes and he looked away, flushing as he focused somewhere past her ear. "We're at war. And…Maker, I didn't even think it was possible that you felt…" He coughed, clearing his throat. "Why… what stopped you?"

His exclamation of 'Maker' threatened to drag her down and she took a deep breath, moving to look out over the courtyard below. "I…am the Inquisitor, but I'm also Dalish; you know that I don't believe in the Maker. You are very devout and I admire your faith, but…could you really consider a heathen apostate?"

The question clearly gave him reason for pause, for one reason or another, given the hesitant silence that lingered between them. His answer was surprisingly strong and sure. It gave her butterflies in her stomach again.

"I already have. Are _you_ sure you could really consider a half-addicted wash-up of an ex-templar?"

The self-deprecation wasn't lost on Vanawyn, butterflies turning into indignation. She whirled around and gave him a fond but chastising look. "Don't make light of that, Cullen. What you're doing is important, and will be an exam—"

"—I know." Cullen crossed the gap between them, resting a hand on her upper arm. Vanawyn's eyes darted down quickly, checking that she wasn't letting off any excess energy; it felt like sparks actually flew between the bare skin of his hand and her arm. "Thank you. Your support has meant…more than you could ever know."

Heat flooded her cheeks as his other hand lifted between them, tilting her chin toward his face. It was a gentle, careful motion. From the tremble of his fingers, she could tell he was terrified of scaring her off. It was more comforting than he probably realized.

"But you, um, didn't…answer my question." Cullen seemed to have lost most of his nerve the moment their eyes met once more, inches apart.

Nearly hypnotized, Vanawyn leaned forward, hands reaching to press against his breastplate for balance. The words could barely force themselves past fumbling lips. "I already…have."

Eyes slid shut and she braced herself for the moment she'd daydreamed of for far too long, heels slowly lifting off the ground. Stubble tickled her as his chin scraped the tip of her nose when he leaned down, but she couldn't even find it in herself to laugh after the warmth of his breath stole hers away.

"Commander, you wanted a copy of Sister Leliana's report."

As if on cue, a gust of cold air blew across the two of them, carrying the distracted voice of a scout. Blue-purple eyes snapped open, meeting equally shocked brown. Neither knew what to do for a split second, staring at the other in confusion.

Cullen finally looked away, toward the stairs. "…What?"

His voice conveyed equal parts confusion and annoyance, which would normally have made Vanawyn smile, but she was still trying to lift the fog of nearly kissing him. A few slow blinks later, she followed Cullen's gaze to watch the scout who had interrupted them.

She felt bad for the poor guy; it was clear as day that he didn't even realize what he walked in on, considering his eyes were still glued to the report he was bringing to Cullen. "Sister Leliana's report." Finally the young man looked up, eyes widening and blood draining from his face. "You wanted it deliv…"

They weren't that intimidating, were they? Pity washed over her and Vanawyn forced herself to take a step back, hands clasping behind her. "Cullen, you should take care of this. I… I need to talk to the Champion before we leave for Adamant, anyway."

She didn't, but it was the only excuse she could grasp. She mustered all her self-control to keep from sighing. Hopefully both of them made it out of Adamant in one piece; other opportunities to talk alone beforehand seemed pretty nonexistent. They had more important things to do than make halla eyes at each other.

Thankfully his shoulders squared and he reached for the report from the scout. At least some of their dignity would be left intact. "Yes, of course."

Vanawyn glanced from one man to the other, gaze lingering on Cullen for a moment longer than intended. Snapping out of it, she shook her head and quickly made her way past the scout and back down the half-finished stairs.

The sweet smell of Elfroot and dirt greeted her from the garden as she descended to the bottom of the tower, comforting and inviting. Meditating among the leaves would likely help calm her racing heart; it usually did. There were things to be done, but at the moment, all she could focus on was the serenity of being surrounded by herbs and flowers.

Her feet touched cool but familiar grass and the cold, hard dirt beneath it, feeling the muscles in her back begin to unknot. Closing her eyes, she wandered until it felt like a good spot to sit down, and then slid into a meditative pose. The soft rustle of tree leaves sang a lovely melody, serenading her.

_Creators, please let us come out of Adamant in one piece._

The sun broke through the leaves.

Vanawyn smiled.


End file.
